


king of my heart

by kendelias (imdeansgirl)



Series: oc trope challenge 2021 [1]
Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Gen, Kid Fic, Original Character(s), Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29171808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imdeansgirl/pseuds/kendelias
Summary: Naomi isn't particularly fond of being a princess. Then her parents go and engage her to some obnoxious heir, of all things.
Relationships: Hitachiin Kaoru/Original Character(s)
Series: oc trope challenge 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141550
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	king of my heart

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my first published oc fic (under this username, at least), so i'm excited for this to debut! this is for [the oc trope challenge](https://kendelias.tumblr.com/tagged/oc-trope-challenge) on tumblr. i'm participating there too, so if you like my content, you can find me there. my username is [@kendelias](https://kendelias.tumblr.com) there as well. this is based off of my ouran oc, naomi, but this is completely au. but if you like it, you can learn more about naomi [here!](https://kendelias.tumblr.com/tagged/naomi-kitani). i also mention some other ocs - frieda, who belongs to [ocsandallthatjazz](https://ocsandallthatjazz.tumblr.com), and arina, who belongs to [oc-daydreams](https://oc-daydreams.tumblr.com). go check em out! they also have ouran ocs and are just generally awesome.

Naomi isn’t particularly fond of being a princess.

She tells her mother this on the morning of her tenth birthday. Naomi had wanted to spend the day with the few friends she’s allowed to have - Princesses Arina and Frieda, girls from neighboring kingdoms with whom she had forged a kinship over the years. They met at galas and treaties, here and there, but one of Naomi’s birthday wishes was to have them over for a tea party. Her birthdays were not typically big celebrations; usually, she was just allowed to roam the castle, typically only to sit in the library with her dog, Chico, by her feet. Her parents are far too busy to spend the day with her, and Naomi understands. (She always understands.)

Today, however, her mother informed her that they’re taking her to another castle. Naomi thought maybe it was for a party - even if it wasn’t her own party, maybe Arina and Frieda would be there, and she could enjoy herself after all. After her nursemaids helped her change, though, she overheard them gossiping about where she was really going - to meet her betrothed.

Naomi cries. Not usually a fussy child, the nursemaids always said, but today, she can’t help herself; she wails. Tears drip down her cheeks onto her dress. She doesn’t want to meet some terrible prince, one who’s going to steal her away and make her leave her library and her friends and her dog.

“I hate being a princess,” she sniffles. She feels her eyes swelling, and sweat collecting at the back of her neck. Her mother tells her that she’s being a brat; her father smiles sympathetically and pats her hair.

“Don’t worry, pet,” he says. “We won’t be long. We can come back and eat dinner all together, alright?”

It doesn’t make her want to go any more, but it does stop her from crying. She dries her eyes on her sleeves and stares sullenly out the window for the entire carriage ride over. Her father coughs into his elbow and her mother goes over her plans to speak with the parents of her betrothed. Everything as per usual.

The castle they arrive at is much larger than their own. Instantly, Naomi knows why her parents chose these people, of all people, to marry her off to. Her kingdom is not struggling, not by any means; but they are not grand sweeping landscapes, golden doors, beautiful mosaic windows, or orange and blue roses around the entryway. She is royal. These people are imperial.

She is ushered into a large foyer, with two grand staircases and servants at every corner. Standing in the center of the room is a man and woman, in royal dressing robes that resemble those of her parents, smiling warmly. Naomi blinks, wondering vaguely if she’s going to cry again; she wonders if her parents will leave her with these strangers at the end of the day. She wonders if they know that it’s her birthday.

“Your Highnesses,” the woman says, curtseying. The man bows and her parents mirror them. She turns to Naomi and nods. To Naomi, her smile seems false; too pearly, too white, stretched too thin at the corners. Naomi almost shudders away; her father’s leg at her back stops her. “Princess Naomi.”

Belatedly, after being bumped by her mother’s hip, Naomi curtseys in return. “Your Highnesses,” she murmurs softly, realizing that she does not know this woman’s surname.

The King, she presumes, smiles too, and greets her parents in a similar manner. As they ask politely about their travels, Naomi allows her eyes to wander. There are large double doors leading in several directions; one, she knows, to a courtyard that she saw through the hedges, another to what is probably a servants’ quarters. The stairs in front of her, behind the King and Queen, split off in two directions past another set of large double doors. More doors made of gold, more space to run and hide; these people are very rich, indeed.

Naomi comes to as her mother snaps in front of her. “Pay attention, child,” she mutters. Naomi blinks and mumbles an apology. The queen just smiles her too-wide-smile and tilts her head.

“No matter,” she says. “It is about time we call our son to join us, anyway.” She turns over her shoulder. Her voice turns sharp and rigid at the edges when she shouts, “Kaoru! Come now!”

There is a small, solemn stretch of silence as Naomi awaits her fate. Her heart is beating heavily in her chest, harsh thundering that she can feel in her fingertips and her stomach. Then there are footsteps heavy on the tile floor, running right for them. She holds her breath as they draw nearer and nearer.

At the top of the stairs appears a boy with startling red hair. This is the first thing she notices. Next, she realizes that he is dressed entirely in powder blue. The dressing robes are soft, silk, and obviously intricate, even from a distance; they’re flared at the sleeves. His fist is curled around the banister at the top of the staircase, and his face is turned into a slight frown. Naomi understands at once that he is just as scared as she is.

“Kaoru,” his mother says, her tone still jagged as knives. Naomi looks up to her mother, to see if she notices; her mother says nothing. She looks back up to the boy, who shifts uncomfortably in place. “Come say hello.”

Obediently, he trots down the stairs, his feet softly hitting the tile in his house slippers. When he reaches the bottom, he looks up to his mother, who nods. Then, he turns to Naomi and bows promptly. “M’Lady,” he murmurs. His voice is high and severe; it makes her no calmer than she was upon her arrival.

She curtseys. “M’Lord,” she replies in turn. When they straighten, the queen ruffles her son’s hair.

“Why don’t you take our guest on a tour of the castle?” she asks politely. As she asks it, Naomi wonders if the prince - Kaoru, she had called him - knew the truth: that their parents were ushering them away in order to discuss the rules of their arrangement. Maybe, much like herself, he knows all too well. Regardless, he nods minutely and turns on his heel. After a moment, Naomi picks up the skirts of her dress and scurries behind him, following him through a large set of doors as the conversation resumes behind her.

The doors open up into a large and ornate kitchen. The counters are lined with golden, light wood, and black marble tops. There are servants bustling about, muttering an “excuse me, your highness” as they rush past them to prepare dinner. There’s a large turkey sitting on top of the oven, several of the cooks leaning over it and whispering softly in a language that Naomi doesn’t recognize. As she watches them run amok, she allows her eyes to wander over to Kaoru. He looks bored, his face impassive. Up close, his features are much smaller and more petite than she’d realized. His eyes flit to her face and then away again. “These are the kitchens,” he says. Then, he turns on his heel and walks the opposite direction. Naomi blinks, then follows, hurrying after him after a brief moment of hesitation.

He leads them back out of the doors and into a hall, down to another set of doors. When they open, Naomi is welcomed to a grander ballroom then she’s ever seen in her life. The only one that rivals it is her friend Frieda’s, but even then, she can’t be sure - the place looks huge. The walls are white and gold, with silk tapestries hanging from the walls and large maroon curtains over the windows. The ceiling is adorned with a painting as well, muted blue strokes of a sky and darling cherubs with red peach fuzz on their heads. She blinks around in awe, her mouth hanging open, but remembers where she is and looks to Kaoru. Again, he looks bored, maybe even annoyed with the whole ordeal. She supposes he lives here, so he sees it every day - still, it’s exciting for her. “The ballroom,” he says flatly, before turning around again. This time, Naomi hikes up her skirt a little quicker to follow behind.

The process repeats itself with every room they enter. Each is more stunning than the last, decorated with gold and silk, increasing in luxury. Naomi is awestruck; Kaoru pays her no mind. It’s when he breezily exits to the yard without so much as a warning, leading Naomi to stumble over her skirts going through the doorway, that she has to say something.

“Can you slow down, please?” she manages. “My skirts are rather heavy.”

He looks over his shoulder at her, unimpressed with her request. “If you can’t keep up, we can always cancel the tour,” he says. It’s played off as casual, but Naomi hears the intent behind it; she knows he wants her to tell him to stop, to push him away. He tilts his head back, the sun glinting gently over his face. “I’m sure Mother would understand--”

“No,” she says at once, squaring her jaw. The King and Queen's heir may not care about making this work, but Naomi would do her best to appease her parents. She would be polite; she would say yes, and thank you, no matter how rude he is.

Kaoru sniffles. “Alright then,” he says. “Come on then. We’ll spend most of our time in the garden anyway.”

She frowns, but nods, and follows after him, trying her best to keep pace.

The courtyard is, as predicted, stunning. The walls of the hedges are high, and the blue and orange roses adorn them much like they did the door. The rising sun paints the greenery in golden tones, roses glittering in a way that seems almost unnatural. There’s a large fountain, another cherub spitting water at them, and large cherry blossom trees at either end of the yard. The pink petals fall gently through the sky, littering the ground like confetti. Naomi feels the corners of her mouth lift despite herself. It’s gorgeous. She thinks, if she had to spend her birthday with a stranger, this place, of all places, is an excellent place to spend it. No library, of course - no Chico, no tea party. But still nice.

She glances over at Kaoru, only to meet his eyes. He quickly averts his eyes. “I thought you might like the garden,” he mumbles. She barely catches it, but when she does, her eyes widen. 

Surprised he thought about her enjoyment at all, she asks, “How did you figure?”

He points to her dress - the one she had picked out especially for her birthday. It’s pink, with gold-threaded roses decorating the bodice. “Your dress had flowers on it,” he says. Then, he looks away sharply, as if she had caught him doing something unproper. “And girls usually like flowers and dumb stuff, don’t they?”

The sentence catches her offguard. She scoffs. “What do you know about girls?” she asks. Her tone is uncharacteristically sharp; she hurries to soften it. “I don’t think anything I like qualifies as ‘dumb stuff.’”

“My brother says that girls are gross,” Kaoru says, sticking up his nose proudly.

Naomi rolls her eyes. It’s improper of a princess, she knows, but she doesn’t find it in herself to care at the moment. “Who said you have to listen to everything your brother says?” she asks. He blinks at her, confused.

“Well, I always do,” Kaoru says. “We’re always together.”

“So?”

He looks at her as if she’s dumb. “So we always think the same.”

She can’t help it; persistance is one of her more irritating traits. “Why?” she prods.

He throws up his arms. “Because we do!” he snaps. “Why do you care, anyway?”

Naomi feels her face soften. “Well, because you’re your own person. You shouldn’t do everything just because someone else tells you to. You should do things because you want to do them.” At that, Kaoru gives her a look, and she feels her face warm as she remembers why they’re here in the first place. She drops her head. “That’s different.”

He doesn’t reply; he just tilts his head up to squint at the sun. Naomi looks too; it just feels like the thing to do. “So,” he says eventually, “do you? Like the flowers?”

She glances at him. He still isn’t looking at her, but he looks less guarded; as if he’s waiting for her answer with hope. She watches him for a moment longer, then smiles. “I think I’d like to see them up close,” she decides, and walks forward. It’s in that moment, though, that her shoe catches on a root and she goes tumbling forward.

“Princess!” Naomi’s hits the ground before she knows what’s happening. Her hands, though, are out in front of her, so she catches herself before she can take much damage. A hand wraps around her arm and pulls her up, gently. Kaoru’s face looks newly unguarded, suddenly softened and tinged with genuine concern. “Are you alright?”

Naomi feels tears spring to her eyes, her hands stinging from where they held up her body, but she holds them back. If her mother heard her wailing, she’d be so upset… Instead, Naomi nods, cradling her wrist to her chest. “Yes, thank you. Sorry, that wasn’t very ladylike of me.”

Kaoru frowns. “I’m more worried about you. That was a pretty nasty fall,” he says. “Are you sure you don’t want to go see one of the nursemaids?” She shakes her head and tentatively twists her wrist, assessing the injury. It stings, but it’s not sharp pains; bruised, maybe, not broken. Kaoru’s eyes widen, though. “You’re bleeding.”

She looks down at her hand. So she is; she hadn’t even noticed. She must have slipped on a rock or something. It isn’t a large cut, and she can barely feel it, but there is a little bit of blood gathering in the creases of her palm. Suddenly, she hears the rip of fabric, and Kaoru wraps light blue cloth over the wound. “There,” he says, the piece of fabric from his dressing robe stained with blood. “Good as new.”

“Aren’t you going to get in trouble?” Naomi blurts. She knows that, were she to rip her gown, her mother would be very upset with her, whether it was purposeful or not.

He merely shrugs. “I usually get in trouble anyway,” he says, tying the band around her hand and nodding in satisfaction. He smiles at her. “This one’s worth it.”

Naomi feels her heart leap into her throat. “You’re not nearly as mean as you want people to think you are,” she says, matter-of-factly.

Kaoru blushes, taking his hand up to rub at the back of his neck. His now-ripped sleeve falls to his elbow, and she watches as the fabric shine more beautifully in the sunlight than it had in the lights of the castle. “Don’t go telling people,” he jokes. “It’s too high of a compliment.” He drops his hand and clears his throat. “It was my fault you fell, Princess. I should have escorted you.” He holds his hand out, looking away.

She smiles softly, and puts her hand in his. “Call me Naomi,” she asks. He looks at her, then, and nods, smiling back.

“Alright then, Naomi.”

With that, they head towards the flowers, and Naomi thinks that, if she had to spend her birthday with a stranger, Prince Kaoru was not the worst possible option.


End file.
